


Picking up the Pieces

by Vagabond



Series: The Many Adventures of Dr. Frederick Chilton [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, First Time, Lots of Sex, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, PTSD, Pre-Slash, Rutting, Series, but then it turns into slash, mentions of PTSD including flashbacks, my little world where everything is Will/Frederick and nothing hurts, relationship backstory, some violence but nothing more than what we'd see in the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter's trial is over and he's been sentenced to life in a psychiatric hospital. His victims are left to piece their lives back together bit by bit, and Frederick Chilton is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trial

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to my Frederick/Will backstory fic that sets up the two other fics I've written in this series. Why? Because I can. Because everything is Will/Frederick and nothing hurts. Because I need fluff in my life and these two are good for it. Fluff and sass and heavy doses of both. 
> 
> Updates will happen pretty frequently. I already have the second chapter written and will post it once the third is written, etc. I don't tend to like to hold my stories back so once I'm a chapter ahead, I'll update :-)

It seemed appropriate that the weather was a mess the day of Hannibal Lecter’s sentencing. Frederick thought it was a rather pleasant coincidence. Something about the sheets of rain pounding against the roof of his car elated him. Perhaps he was also pleased that one of the last things Hannibal Lecter would see would be cloudy, dark grey skies and torrents of rain as he was whisked off to the Baltimore State Hospital to spend the rest of his days in confinement. Of course the journey wasn’t over; the experience hadn’t come to an end, not for everyone touched by the cannibalistic psychiatrist who had pretended to be everyone’s friend. 

No, even as the judge sentenced the doctor to life and Frederick watched as Hannibal stood emotionless to receive his sentence, he didn’t feel good about it. He knew it would still be Hannibal’s face he saw when he closed his eyes, Hannibal’s strange plastic suit he’d hear whenever he tried to ground himself by listening to the world around him, Hannibal’s disturbingly soothing voice as he was told the only thing left for him to do would be to run. A trial wouldn’t end the torment within Frederick’s own mind and he wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would, but it still felt like a small victory. 

He scanned the court room after court was adjourned for any sign of familiar faces. Off to the right Jack Crawford sat, looking like a ghost of a man. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed and he was idly touching the bandage resting against his neck. Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price were missing but Frederick wasn’t surprised. The pair seemed uninterested in giving ‘Hannibal the cannibal Lecter,’ as the world was calling him, anymore time in their lives. Alana Bloom, however, sat beside Jack with sad eyes, her beautiful lips forming an unattractive thin line to express her discontent. 

No one was going to leave the court room unscathed but at least they could begin to put their lives back together. 

Frederick looked around for Will Graham but found the profiler absent. It surprised him, even though Will had every reason to avoid Hannibal for the rest of his life, because he would have thought seeing Hannibal sentenced would have been satisfying. After all, Will had caught him. He’d been the one to lure the psychiatrist in order to catch him in a trap. His plan worked, but really the man couldn’t be faulted for being uninterested in showing up to the sentencing. Will had testified, he’d said his piece, and perhaps that was enough. 

People filed out of the room and Frederick waited, toying with the top of his cane and trying to make eye contact with as many people as possible. He did it out of spite, really. He was certain most of the people leaving the court room had at one point believed the news which claimed Frederick Chilton was the Chesapeake Ripper. Frederick had been put through hell and he was not going to back down from it or be ashamed of it. If he had to, he’d look every single person in the eye and let them see the vivid scar on his cheek from the bullet he’d taken. Immediately his tongue went to the damaged cheek and touched the scar tissue that had become a part of the inside of his mouth. 

It was a part of him but still seemed so foreign, and even as he stared people down as they passed, he felt a deep sense of uncertainty. When they looked at him he swore they looked at his scar, not at the confidence in his eyes. They kept their eyes trained on his wound and then averted their gazes. He scowled and finally looked down at the ground and then jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Frederick glanced up and found Alana’s sad eyes watching him and was grateful they weren’t trained on his scar. 

“How are you, Frederick?” Alana asked even though her voice sounded distant. She seemed lost and Frederick’s heart sank because he really did like Alana. After all, she was a talented psychiatrist with a brilliant mind and Hannibal had toyed with it, toyed with her, and left her broken like everyone else that had been in his life. 

“Fine,” he answered a little too curtly and moved to stand as if to show just how fine he was even as he leaned on the cane for support, “I’m alright,” he softened his tone and tried to not be an asshole for once in his life, “how about you? How are you holding up?” 

“As well as anyone I guess. Sometimes I still can’t believe that Hannibal…well. I guess, Frederick, I’m sorry I ever believed that you could have been the killer.” Alana looked truly sorry. Really she looked downright remorseful, as if she were carrying around some deep guilt since she’d taken Hannibal’s side up until the very last moment. A small part of him wanted to play up that guilt and make sure she felt it deep in her bones but the better part of him won out and he just shook his head and awkwardly patted her arm. 

“All is forgiven.” The words felt heavy on his tongue and they made his cheek hurt and deep down he knew they weren’t quite true. It was hard to forgive the FBI and all of the people working with it for the hell they’d put him through, even Alana in all of her sincerity. One day, maybe, he would truly forgive the people who accused him but until that day he would lie. Perhaps if he lied enough he could begin to believe the lie. 

“Take care, Frederick.” Her tone suggested she knew his forgiveness wasn’t completely genuine but it seemed she was uninterested in pushing the issue as she dissolved into the last few people exiting the courtroom and was gone before he could reply. He just stared momentarily at the spot where she’d stood and hated himself a little bit for not being kinder. There had been a time when she was a friend, or at the very least a pleasant colleague and he hoped he hadn’t burned a bridge for good. 

They were all damaged, though, and it would take time before they could resume their lives as they had been. If they ever could, anyway. 

When the court room was empty he looked back to where Hannibal had stood and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Good riddance. Eventually he’d have to face the madman again at the hospital but he still had a good, long leave of absence and it would give him the time he needed to put everything in perspective. He made his way out of the court room finally, entering the large and almost overwhelming hallway. Everyone had dispersed and only a few attorneys were milling around. 

Frederick glanced out the window and found it was still raining. He watched it patter against the window pane for a few minutes before finally deciding it was time to go home. Time to face whatever lay behind his front door now that everything was over, because he hadn’t been home since he’d woken up there covered in blood, and he had officially checked out of his FBI funded hotel room. He stepped outside of the courthouse and breathed in the wet, humid air and nearly jumped out of his skin when there was movement out of the corner of his eye. As he turned his head he frowned a bit because Will Graham was standing against a wall staring right at him with a questioning look. 

“Mr. Graham.” Frederick wasn’t really sure what to call the other man. He’d felt unsure about what their relationship was exactly since Will visited him in FBI custody after Frederick had been shot in the face and assured him he’d catch Hannibal Lecter. Of course, Frederick had been very drugged up when the profiler visited him in the hospital but he still remembered the look of determination in the other man’s stormy blue eyes and the strange warmth his presence had provided. Somehow, Will had gone from being his prisoner to his comrade and now he wondered what they were post-Hannibal Lecter. 

“Frederick.” Will offered him a faint smile and then looked back out at the rain. 

“I didn’t see you in there for sentencing. I must have missed you.” Frederick pointed out as he took a few steps closer to the other man before he joined him in leaning against the wall. 

“You didn’t miss me. I wasn’t there. I was out here.” 

“Ah. Why?” There wasn’t any point in beating around the bush, not with Will Graham, and Frederick found that refreshing. 

“Somehow he was still my friend and I’m still trying to sort out exactly how I feel about the whole ordeal.” Will glanced at him and shrugged. 

“I think we all are, to be honest with you. Have you spoken with Jack? Alana? Anyone?” 

“No.” 

“Have they spoken with you?” Frederick was testing out a theory with his question and watched as Will averted his gaze and stared somewhere off to the side. 

“At me. They talked at me. I walked away. Look, I’m not really interested in talking about Hannibal Lecter at the moment. I imagine you understand why.” Will met Frederick’s gaze once again and looked very tired. 

“Try to get some rest, Mr. Graham. I’m sure we all need it.” Frederick nodded, pushed away from the wall, and began the trip through the rain to his car. 

As far as he could tell, Will Graham remained pressed against the wall and he swore he could feel the profiler’s eyes on him until he was out of sight.


	2. Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Frederick wants is his life to be his again, free of the terrible memories associated with Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I update frequently. Lol. If I didn't have to deal with life, I'd just write this fic 24/7. 
> 
> Ps. this is definitely a slow build much to my own chagrin but there will be some lovin' hopefully in chapter 4. I promise they get cute in chapter 3 though. 
> 
> Warning: He has a PTSD related flashback so if flashbacks or descriptions of PTSD are triggering at all, be warned.

The drive home was equal parts familiar and anxiety provoking. On one hand, Frederick was looking forward to putting his life back together. He was ready to be in his own clothes again, not clothing the FBI had purchased for him. He wanted his 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and the familiar smells of his home. There would no doubt be a lot of things he’d have to reorganize but it would hopefully be a chance to make the house his again. Though there was still a little part of him that wanted to pack up his things and find somewhere else to live. 

He’d be strong, though. He’d prove all of those pitiful stares wrong. Frederick Chilton would take his life back from Hannibal Lecter and that would start by getting his home in order. It would be alright. He told himself that over and over as he pulled into the driveway and stepped up to the door and stuck the key into the lock for the first time in a long time. When the door swung open his house smelled like disinfectant with a citrus undertone. It made him think back to the hospital and the long period of being under the influence of drugs while people told him his face was looking better every day. 

Frederick inhaled long and deep and finally stepped into the house. There was no beeping this time, no sound at all except the creaking of the floorboards as he stepped into the entranceway. He left the door open because something about having a quick escape route felt right. He took another deep breath as he made his way through his sitting room and into his kitchen but stopped with one foot in and one foot still firmly planted out of the room. 

“There is no one here,” he reminded himself out loud because apparently he was becoming someone who needed to do that sort of thing, “the FBI cleaned up the crime scene. It is clean. No one is here.” 

Yet as he stepped completely into the kitchen he felt a clammy sense of dread began to wrap around him. In an attempt to defy the dread, to show it who was boss, he took another step and ignored the way his stomach turned to knots. He took yet another step and then he realized he was feeling lightheaded and he could smell blood and then he looked down and swore he was covered in it. His cane clattered to the ground as he began to shake and he looked around the room and could see the outlines of the dead FBI agents on his table and he heard Abel Gideon laughing manically from somewhere in the house. Fear and terror ripped through him and he threw himself out of the room and back toward the open door into the cold, rainy afternoon where he collapsed on his front step and sobbed as quietly as he could. 

He tasted bile in his mouth and felt the distinct desire to throw up but instead he gulped down the damp air and tried to get a hold of himself. 

“My name is Frederick Chilton. I’m in Baltimore, Maryland. It is Monday afternoon and it is raining outside. Everything is okay.” He mumbled the words, trying to breathe and regain a sense of reality. When he finally felt his body slipping out of panic mode he shifted and slumped against the railing and closed his eyes. The rain pattered gently against the top of his head and the cold raindrops mingled with the tears on his face as his shaking subsided. 

When he felt like his legs wouldn’t give out under him he pulled himself back up to his feet and stumbled inside, using the wall as a balance. He would avoid the kitchen and just make it upstairs to his bedroom. He’d pack his bags and find somewhere to stay for a while longer. Frederick hated himself for not being strong enough to step foot in his completely harmless kitchen. 

“I’m better than this,” he whispered softly as he made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Even though it was obvious the FBI had rifled through his stuff, the room still smelled right. His sheets were still in place, his alarm clock was on the night stand, there were a few pictures of his family on top of his dresser, and everything seemed to be in order. He made his way over to the closet, pulled out his duffle bag, and proceeded to shove clothes in it. Frederick went with comfortable clothes for the moment, deciding suits would be left for work, even as he packed one of his suits just in case. What he mostly packed were a lot of jeans, button-down shirts, t-shirts, and an old sweatshirt he’d had since his medical school days. 

Putting the sweatshirt to his nose he inhaled deeply and let the smell of the well worn fabric remind him of long nights studying for exams and even longer nights on rotation. He’d been able to handle those challenges and he would figure out how to handle the present challenges, too. He hoped. 

After he tossed a bottle of shampoo and a few other toiletries in the bag, he was ready to leave. The last thing he packed was a well worn afghan that his mother had made him years ago as a graduation present. He tucked it into the duffle bag on top of everything else and then carefully exited the room. Without his cane he felt slightly unbalanced but he managed to make it down the stairs without falling and breaking his neck. He made it out the door and turned to lock it before he headed to his car, tossed his stuff in the back, and got into the driver’s seat. 

He was ready to go, but where? Frederick stared out the windshield and watched the rain streak down it as he ran through his options in his head. There was always a hotel, but he’d just checked out of one and really didn’t feel like checking back in. What friend could he stay with? He scoffed to himself at the thought because he realized that he didn’t have any friends. At least, not the kind that would be willing to lend him their couch. Most of them were married and had families and certainly wouldn’t want a man with his current history darkening their doorstep. No, friends were out of the question and so was family because what little that remained was too far away. 

There was one name he kept returning to even though he wanted to deny it was his best option and ultimately his only hope. 

_Will Graham._

He turned the key, put the car in reverse, and began his trek to Wolf Trap, Virginia. 

After the lengthy drive, Frederick almost refused to turn into Will’s driveway. He idled at the turnoff with his blinker on, grateful that there were no other cars to be seen. Off in the distance was Will’s little house, the lights on inside and in the fading daylight he could see a few furry bodies prowling through the field. In his mind he ran through all of the possibilities. If he drove up and Will said no, he’d have to get in his car and find a hotel room somewhere to spend the night until he could man up and feel comfortable in his house. If he drove up and Will said yes, that opened up an entirely different can of worms he wasn’t sure he was willing to dig into. A glance in the rear-view mirror told him it was time to make a decision because there was another car approaching and he’d either need to keep going or turn down the driveway. 

With a heavy sigh he turned into the driveway and pulled up to Will’s familiar house, the dogs barking to alert their master of the visitor. He turned off the car and sat for a long moment. When Will Graham stepped outside he knew he’d made his choice and couldn’t turn back, not unless the other man told him to leave. So he got out of the car and pocketed his keys. The dogs approached, a swarm of soft whines, wet noses, and wagging tails and he couldn’t help but smile at them. He reached down to pet the few he could reach before he finally looked up to meet Will’s stare. 

“Are you here to use the shower again?” Will asked and there was an amused glint in his eye and a certain ease to his posture that put Frederick at ease, too. 

“At some point, probably,” he hesitated and allowed himself to be distracted by the dogs returning to Will, all but Winston who simply sat at his feet and peered up at him, “I was hoping, I thought perhaps,” Frederick hated how he stumbled over his words, “perhaps I could, if you’re willing…” 

“Frederick, get your stuff and bring it in.” Will jerked his head toward the door and then turned to go inside without another word. Frederick did his best to ignore the sense of relief that washed through him as he pulled his bag out of the back, locked his car, and followed Winston inside. 

“There is a guest bedroom upstairs if you want to use it. Though by guest bedroom, I mean there is a bedroom upstairs and you can probably find clean sheets and blankets in the closet in the hallway. I don’t remember the last time I went in there.” Will explained as he motioned to the stairs before he disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you want coffee?” He called out. 

“Uh, sure.” Frederick replied, feeling off kilter and not all too sure exactly what he was supposed to do. Should he go upstairs and begin trying to settle in? He had to admit, he’d never faced this kind of open-ended hospitality before and was a bit befuddled by the lack of direction from his host. So in a bout of confidence he carefully made his way up the stairs and sought out the bedroom. 

There were two bedrooms, actually, but one was filled with boxes and looked like no one had touched it since Will had moved in. At least the other room appeared to have been cleared out at one point and it may have been dusted once or twice. He set his bag on the floor and looked around before he made his way back out into the hallway to find the closet Will had described. With a bit of searching and a lot of opening and closing of various cupboard doors he found the sheets tucked away on a shelf in the hall closet and yanked them down along with a few blankets. 

As he made his way back to the bedroom he felt a bit lightheaded because everything seemed so unreal. At least when he was in the hotel he had some sort of direction to move in. Everything was always headed toward Hannibal Lecter’s trial. He was in the hotel room in order to stay alive so that he could testify. His whole life had been oriented toward making sure Hannibal paid for what he did and now that the man was locked up away from society, he wasn’t sure where his life was going next. Yes, he’d go back to the hospital but was there anything more for him? He wasn’t exactly sure how someone bounced back from what he’d gone through. It really made him consider his life and what he was doing with it. 

While deep in thought he switched out the sheets and blankets on the bed and when it was all done he sat on the edge and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Not only did he have no idea where his life was going, but he was apparently going to stay the night in the house of someone who was once pretty much his enemy. He winced and brushed his fingers over his scar as he remembered the day he showed up on Will’s doorstep asking for a shower, covered in blood and slightly traumatized. What would life have been like if he’d been able to run and Will hadn’t called Jack? How far would he have made it before either the FBI or Hannibal caught up with him? 

“It doesn’t look that bad, you know.” Will’s voice said from the doorway and Frederick’s hand immediately dropped from his face as if he’d been caught doing something worse than touching his scar. He stared at the floor for a long moment before finally lifting his gaze to meet the curious blue eyes peering at him. 

“Says the man without a bullet scar on his face.” Frederick replied, not even bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone as his gaze switched back to the floor. “You got away without any outward scars. You don’t have Hannibal Lecter’s mark on your face for the world to see.”

“You’re right. I just had him in my head. I just killed for him. I just had rumors spread about how crazy I was, or how I was working with him. I just got locked up and put on a public trial and smeared in the papers.” Will’s answer was strangely devoid of any true bitterness, almost as if he’d accepted his fate and it didn’t really bother him anymore. Deep down Frederick wished that were the case for him, too, but all he felt was fear and shame. When people’s eyes drifted to his scar all he could think was how pitiful he’d been, lying on the floor of the interrogation room bleeding, ready to die because at least death would mean he’d be free. 

Frederick had no words to say because Will was still right, they’d both been through hell and if they were going to have a pissing match then Will would win every time. 

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for getting him.” Frederick said softly as he curled his fingers in the knee of his trousers, biting down a wave of anxiety. 

“No thanks needed. I caught him because it was the right thing to do.” Will shrugged and then glanced out the hallway door, looking every bit like a man who had run out of appropriate things to say in the conversation. “Coffee is ready whenever you want it. I think there might be a cane in the other bedroom if you need one.” With that, Will disappeared from the room and Frederick heard him walk down the stairs. He sighed and closed his eyes, pretending they weren’t wet, and let the wave of unpleasant emotions wash over him before he stood and made his way to the other bedroom. 

Just as Will said, there was a cane, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the quality of the cane Frederick had been using. However, until he could muster up the strength to step back into his kitchen at home and retrieve it, the old, plain cane was what he’d have to use and he’d do his best to be grateful. After adjusting it to the correct height he hobbled down the stairs only to be greeted by Winston who followed him dutifully to the kitchen where Will was sitting, sipping his coffee and glancing through a paper that appeared to be three days old. 

“You realize your paper is out of date, don’t you?” Frederick pointed out as he set the cane against the wall and took a seat across from Will at the table. He brought the coffee up to his nose and inhaled the warm steam rising from it. 

“I don’t mind.” Will replied off-handedly as he sipped his coffee and continued to seem engrossed in the paper. 

“Do you even get the paper daily?” Now Frederick felt like he was just trying to make conversation because he didn’t know how to sit in silence, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“No. I pick it up whenever I think about it and read it when I have the time.” Will peered over the top of the newspaper at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I get pertinent news from Jack Crawford. When I’m home and not dealing with the pertinent news, I like to catch up on all of the little things that don’t have to do with people dying.” 

“Oh.” That silenced Frederick because he supposed it made sense. He fell silent and sipped the coffee and realized when it was already too late that it was Folgers. His nose wrinkled at the taste and he stared at it for a long minute before sucking it up and taking another sip. Sure, it tasted like glorified water, but at least it was warm. Strangely enough it was also comforting. 

“You can buy your own coffee, if you want, and keep it here,” Will offered from behind the newspaper and it caught Frederick’s attention. 

“That makes it sound as if I’m going to be staying here for more than a night.” Frederick replied carefully, staring at the newspaper as he wished he could see Will’s face. He wasn’t sure if the other man was messing with him or not. 

“However long you need, Frederick. Or until you talk me to death.” 

Frederick was surprised but grateful and he smiled into his coffee. 

“Thank you, Will.” He said the words softly because he was almost embarrassed to say them. They seemed so foreign on his tongue because it was a rare occurrence for him to have a reason to thank someone. For a moment he waited to see if there would be some sort of retraction or response, but all he saw was a flutter of the newspaper that indicated Will had shrugged. 

It was something, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps. I really hate Folgers coffee it is the worst part of waking up.


	3. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick has trouble sleeping in a strange house, but Winston comes to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is great, but the next chapter is even better. Enjoy your second update for the day <3

For the first hour after they’d both gone to bed, Frederick tossed and turned and finally ended up lying on his back. He stared up at the dark ceiling accented only by the tendrils of moonlight that managed to sneak through the curtains over the window. Sometimes the shadows the light created made Frederick’s heart leap up into his throat. Other times they were almost mesmerizing and guided him right up to the precipice of sleep only to have some noise in the house drag him back into wakefulness. 

The bed was comfortable which was probably what frustrated him the most. He didn’t have to put up with the sounds of a creaking bed and moans of ecstasy he’d had the misfortune of hearing while in the hotel room. He didn’t have to deal with the cleaning service poking their heads in even after he’d put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. Finally he’d been given a space where he could be alone and have some peace, but peace seemed so far away. Everything around him screamed ‘be comfortable!’ but comfort was a long time coming. 

His face ached and he turned his head to press the scarred cheek into the chilled side of his pillow and willed away the pain. It was all psychosomatic, he understood that, but the ache was still too much for him and he rolled out of bed and padded out into the hallway. Frederick left his cane behind as he made his way into the upstairs bathroom and flicked on the light. At first he flinched and closed his eyes as the light filtered through his lids but he slowly opened his eyes and adjusted before he stared at himself in the mirror. The scar was just as he’d left it. It didn’t appear to be pulsing, it hadn’t reopened, and there was nothing outwardly wrong with it even though it still ached. 

Frederick turned on the tap and splashed water on his face and let the droplets run down his cheeks and over his chin before they dripped back into the basin of the sink. He watched the water do that for a time before he finally shut off the tap, dried off his face, and turned the light off. When he made his way back into the hallway Winston startled him and he grabbed the wall for support as he stared at the dog in the dark. He could make out the faint movements of Winston’s tail wagging in the darkness and shook his head. 

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” he hissed but felt what little irritation he had mustered fade when Winston whined and pressed up against his leg. With a heavy sigh he reached down and rubbed the dog’s head before Winston turned and trotted away. Frederick watched him go, though his brows furrowed a bit when the dog stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at him. 

“What?” He whispered the word, trying to keep his voice quiet because he didn’t want to wake Will up and cement himself in the other man’s books as the worst houseguest in modern history. Winston’s tail just wagged as the dog went down a couple of steps and then turned to come back up them, which Frederick could only take to mean the dog wanted him to follow. 

“What are you, Lassie? Did Timmy fall in a well?” Frederick huffed a bit but made his way to his room and grabbed his jacket and shoved his feet into his shoes. Maybe the dog needed to go out and felt the need to make him do it instead of waking Will up. Or perhaps it was all some cruel joke and the dogs were somehow initiating him into the house. It was a stupid thought, but Frederick was tired and didn’t understand what his life had become so he tried to cut himself some slack. 

He carefully made his way down the stairs, wincing as Winston thumped down the stairs in front of him. If their goal was to not wake Will up, then they were doing a terrible job. Once he was at the bottom of the stairs he followed Winston to the door. A couple of the other dogs approached, too. Buster, or at least that’s what Frederick thought the dog’s name was, and a bigger white shepherd mix of some sort. The rest couldn’t seem to be bothered and remained where they lay. Frederick cast a glance over in the direction of the living room where he knew Will was sleeping and felt a strange tightness in his chest that he tried to ignore. 

“Alright, dogs,” he murmured, “go out and do your business or whatever it is you do.” Frederick opened the door and the three dogs trotted out into the night. He followed and, wrapped in his jacket with only a pair of flannel sleeping pants on, sat down on one of the stairs and watched the dogs sniff around the property. It was cold, but the chilled air felt good against his face. There was a gentle breeze and the trees in the distance swayed and danced in the moonlight. Inside, the shadows they cast had brought Frederick an endless stream of anxiety, but outside in the open they seemed harmless. 

He watched and breathed and hugged himself around the middle as the dogs took care of their business. In that moment, he could understand why Will liked living out in the middle of nowhere. There weren’t any cars driving by, there weren’t dumb kids around to toilet paper cars or play other cruel tricks. The only light at night came from the moon, not from artificial streetlamps that flickered off and on at random intervals. Even the air seemed sweeter, cleaner, and the sounds of the world continuing on around him were comforting. 

The last thing he saw was Winston playfully tackling Buster in the tall grass before the world faded away around him where he sat leaning against the stair railing. 

Frederick was startled awake when he felt a strange heaviness around his shoulders. Bleary eyed and confused he looked around and realized that the darkness had begun to fade as the first light of the morning stretched across the sky. He swallowed hard and realized the heaviness was a blanket that had been draped around him and that reminded him that he was cold. With a little pained grunt he shifted to sit up straight and wrapped the blanket tightly around him. Winston was a mound of warmth against his hip and he looked down at the dog who gazed back up at him rather innocently. Buster and the other dog were nowhere to be seen and he felt mild panic. 

He’d fallen asleep after letting the dogs out. Oh god, what if they’d run away? What if one of them had been eaten by a coyote? His heart rate increased and he moved to stand but his legs weren’t having it and he slumped back down onto the steps. 

“The dogs are fine, Frederick.” Will’s soft voice insisted and a mug of coffee was presented to him. 

Frederick looked up into a pair of amused blue eyes and felt the warmth return to his cheeks as he took the coffee and allowed it to warm his slightly chilled hands. 

“I fell asleep out here.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement, and Frederick stared down into the dark brown liquid in his mug. “I’m sorry, Will. Your dogs could have been hurt. I didn’t even realize…” He suddenly felt very guilty and very foolish. When had been the last time he’d fallen asleep sitting somewhere? Not only had he slept outside for most of the evening, but he’d put Will’s dogs at risk and if he hadn’t been the worst house guest before he certainly would be after all of that. 

Will sat beside him, Winston still in-between them, and sipped his own coffee. 

“It is fine, Frederick. I’m just glad you didn’t freeze to death, though it would have been sort of funny if you think about it.” Will took another drink of his coffee and Frederick gave him a look. 

“Yes, I could see it on Tattle Crime now: ‘Dr. Frederick Chilton finally dies of hypothermia after surviving being gutted and shot in the face.’ Freddie Lounds would be amused.” He sighed softly and took a sip of the coffee that appeared to have been made stronger to try and appeal to his taste. A little part of him appreciated the attempt to turn terrible coffee into something drinkable. 

“Do you have trouble sleeping, Frederick?” Will asked finally after a long stretch of silence. He was staring out over the grass when Frederick looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. To be honest, Frederick wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with the question and it made him feel nervous. 

“Don’t you?” He replied softly and followed Will’s gaze out to the large area of grass stretching out in front of the house. Silence once again fell between them and was only broken when Winston whined and stood up. The dog nudged his nose against Will’s cheek then turned and licked Frederick’s ear before he turned and trotted over to the door. 

“Come on, let’s get inside and warmed up.” Will motioned with his head first before he stood, mindful of the mug of coffee in his hand. He disappeared inside and when Frederick finally believed his legs could handle his weight, he stood and followed Winston and Will. 

The warmth inside the house was a welcome change from the crisp air outside and he shuddered as his nerves defrosted and he was reminded of the camping trips his friends would drag him on as a child. The cold had been easier to bear back then because now his older bones felt brittle and his back was sore. He appreciated the blanket and used one hand to keep it around his shoulders while the other one held onto his coffee. Frederick navigated over to the couch, trying to avoid the dogs that seemed insistent on running around his feet, and finally settled into the cushions. He set the coffee mug on a barrel that had been repurposed as a coffee table and made what could probably be described as a nest in the blanket after he kicked off his shoes. 

Will emerged from the kitchen bearing what appeared to be a breakfast burrito on a paper plate and offered it to Frederick who took it graciously. He was about to ask what was in it when Will beat him to the punch. 

“Egg, onion, peppers, and mushrooms, also salsa. No meat.” Will offered Frederick a little half smile and he felt his cheeks warm slightly as he averted his gaze and stared at the breakfast burrito. 

“Thank you.” It was the third time he’d said it in a 24 hour period but it felt right. He had every reason to be thankful that Will hadn’t just tossed him out on his ass. He’d slept outside on his porch with his dogs and the other man barely even blinked at it. Instead of telling him to pack up his things and find somewhere else to be, Will had made him coffee and breakfast. It didn’t really make sense to him but he was willing to accept it because he had nothing else and no one else. 

Will just shrugged and disappeared back into the kitchen, probably to get his own breakfast and read his outdated paper. A part of Frederick wanted to get up and go join him, but he was still cold and stiff and the blanket was soft and comfortable. So he stayed and looked up with surprise when Will came back into the room with his own breakfast and dropped down onto the other end of the couch. Frederick chewed his burrito thoughtfully as he peered down at Will who was munching happily on his own, tossing little chunks of what appeared to be sausage to a dog with a miserable under bite. 

Winston’s head popped up in front of Frederick and the dog stared longingly at his burrito. 

“No. There isn’t anything in here dogs like.” Frederick insisted softly and reached out to pet the top of Winston’s head, but the dog just turned his head to sniff at his hand and then lick it. He cast a side glance over at Will who seemed preoccupied before he ripped off a small part of the tortilla and offered it to Winston. The mutt gingerly took it, tail wagging, and swallowed it down. 

“You know you’ve just established to them that you’re weak,” Will pointed out, amusement in his tone even as he tossed another piece of sausage to the little dog near him. 

“Yes, well, Winston already knows he can get me up in the middle of the night to let him out so I suppose that is already well established.” Frederick replied and smiled as Winston’s ears perked up at the mention of his name. 

“I swear Frederick, if your become his new favorite I’m going to have to kick you out of the house.” Will answered jokingly and smiled before he took another bite of his burrito. 

It was oddly domestic, the two of them sitting there and joking about dogs. Frederick tried to remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable with another person. Most of his interactions with people were official in some sort of capacity. Dinners with Hannibal or other colleagues were always ultimately about psychology and discussing the latest research or unruly clients. Meetings with law enforcement were always about people in his hospital or people who were going to be in the hospital very soon. Even the Christmas parties he’d sanction were uncomfortable for him because his employees interacted well with each other but oftentimes gave him the cold shoulder. 

He supposed the closest thing he had to a comfortable relationship was with one of the security guards who would bring him coffee when Frederick was working late into the night and would share about his grandkids. Frederick was never sure why the man felt the need to share about his family but he secretly enjoyed it because if he was honest, Bruce had a fatherly component to him and it felt nice to be cared for. It felt nice to be included. Bruce was also one of the only people to visit him during his long hospital stay.

Frederick realized he must have looked sad for a moment because when he looked at Will the other man was watching him with a measure of concern. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Will, when he wanted to, was more perceptive of the emotions of those around him than most people. It was one of the things that had made Will a fascinating subject he’d initially wanted to study. Now, though, with that perception turned on him Frederick just felt exposed, even buried beneath a blanket. 

He shyly averted his gaze and put his plate on the side table and when he looked up again Will had shifted and was sitting right beside him with his legs curled under him. They stared at each other for a long moment before Frederick once again looked away, cursing Will’s newfound confidence that came out in the man’s sudden ability to make eye contact. Of course he was startled when he felt Will’s hand against his jaw and grimaced a little as the other man turned his face gently to reestablish eye contact. 

“Will…” he faltered and didn’t really know what to say as he finally looked into the other man’s eyes and swallowed hard. Then Will leaned in and Frederick felt his heart pound and he closed his eyes. Only, what he’d anticipated never came. Instead, he felt Will’s lips press gently to his forehead in a tender display of affection that warmed him from head to toe. Will stroked along Frederick’s jaw with the rough pad of his thumb and just remained in his space for a long moment before pulling away and standing. 

When Frederick finally opened his eyes it was just him and Winston in the living room as the sound of running water came from the kitchen. He picked his burrito back up and began eating again, tossing Winston little pieces of tortilla as he mulled over what had happened.


	4. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time it is Will who has trouble sleeping and the pair decides to resolve some tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think chapter 5 will probably be the last of this little back story. It is going to be a long chapter, too, but I'm over halfway through with it so I'll go ahead and post this and probably finish out the story tomorrow. Or tonight. Depends on my obsession level.

Frederick once thought the hospital had been exhausting. Between being poked and prodded every few hours and the drugs messing with his state of mind when he did manage to wake up really had done a number on him. Even though he was technically sleeping he’d never felt truly rested. However, the drug induced slumber had kept the nightmares at bay and after he was released and weaned off of the pain medications, they returned in bright, vivid detail. So most nights he would lie awake, shaking beneath the blankets, as his mind insisted he was going to die. 

Even after the Abel Gideon incident, his nightmares hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as they currently were. He supposed he was able to distance himself from the Gideon incident in a way he couldn’t from Hannibal. After all, he’d never had a personal relationship with Gideon outside of their sessions and the killer’s residency in his hospital. It was easier to brush off getting gutted by a crazy person when it could be described as just the act of a crazy person. Hannibal had been a friend and his actions had been far from crazy. They were calculated, planned, and executed with a certain brilliance that still put Frederick on edge. 

It was better to be hurt by someone who didn’t care about him than someone he’d thought did. 

As he sat in bed with the blanket his mother made him bunched up in his arms, he tried to ignore the tears that trickled down his cheeks. He wasn’t a crying type of guy usually, but sometimes the images his mind concocted were so vivid there really was no other reaction. Everything he knew about post-traumatic stress disorder ran through his head but he refused to acknowledge that he could fall victim to it. He was a psychiatrist. He should know how to cope, how to fight through the flashbacks and the haunting dreams. Instead, he was curled up in a house that wasn’t his, crying into a blanket because he was beyond exhausted. 

He wondered when Will would finally kick him out of the house. Frederick was waiting for the day Will would ask him to leave and he’d be forced to go back and face what was waiting for him at his own home. Sometimes he wondered why Will put up with him, why the man seemed okay when they spent time together, why Will actually acted like a friend. There was a part of him that hated the fact he couldn’t believe someone would actually be interested in being his friend, but it had been so long since he’d had someone like Will. 

His train of thought was broken when he swore he heard the front door open and then close downstairs. Curiosity seized him and he rolled out of bed and pulled on his old sweatshirt from medical school. He crept downstairs barefoot, wondering if Will was awake. As he passed through the living room he glanced in the direction of the bed and found it vacant except for two of the smaller dogs who appeared to be curled up in the spot Will had left. He quietly opened the front door and poked his head out. His eyes were immediately drawn to Winston, who was sniffing around outside, and then to Will who was standing on the porch watching. 

Will was dressed only in his t-shirt and a pair of long pajama pants. His feet were bare against the wood and Frederick couldn’t help but wonder how the man wasn’t freezing. Carefully he stepped out into the night and closed the door softly behind him. 

“Couldn’t sleep either, Frederick?” Will asked and there was a tone in his voice that put Frederick slightly on edge. He took a few measured steps toward Will and stopped at what he determined was an appropriate distance, though his eyes never left the other man’s profile. 

“No.” Frederick was out of snappy comebacks and he didn’t think they’d be appreciated even if he could think of one. No, the air around Will was buzzing with tension and beneath that tension Frederick was certain he could feel the man’s anger. Then Will looked directly at him and there was something in the man’s expression that spoke volumes. There was exhaustion there, which Frederick could understand, but mingling with the exhaustion was a certain determination laced with righteous anger that made him shiver. It was a good look on Will, he decided in that moment. It pointed to a certain inherent strength the other man possessed. Long gone was the Will Graham whose brain had been on fire. Something new had been born in place of the old Will, something that Hannibal tried to tap into but was wholly, completely, and utterly Will’s and Will’s alone. 

Frederick inhaled sharply when Will took a step toward him and he wasn’t quite sure if the other man was going to kiss him or hit him. At the moment, either seemed like an acceptable reaction. He’d stepped into the man’s alone time, intruded in his processing of whatever dream or thought that had rocked him awake and driven him outside with Winston. 

Will stopped right in front of him and gazed at him thoughtfully. Frederick felt equal parts nervous and excited as the look in his friend’s eyes chased away the images that Hannibal Lecter had left him with. Instead of waiting for Will to make the next move, Frederick did. He closed the distance between them, pulled Will in by his shirt, and pressed their lips together in a kiss. He also closed his eyes and braced himself for a slap, or whatever else would come next due to his bold move. Instead of a slap he received a cold hand against his cheek and Will pushed him back to the exterior wall of the house. Will’s mouth opened and Frederick’s opened in return as their tongues stroked together and he tightened his grip in Will’s shirt. 

He realized somewhere in the back of his mind that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d kissed someone. He whimpered at the thought and Will pressed their hips together as his tongue explored Frederick’s mouth. The kiss was hot and the heat moved all through Frederick’s body, from his mouth down to his chest, out to his fingertips, and straight down to his groin. When they finally broke for air he opened his eyes and found Will staring at him with an unreadable expression. 

“I-I’m sorry, Will, if I-” He was cut off by another kiss and Will’s fingertips traced down the side of his neck. 

“Shut up, Frederick,” Will murmured against his lips before he pressed warm kisses along Frederick’s chilled jaw, “if I didn’t want to kiss you,” he paused and pressed his lips to Frederick’s pulse and then pressed his tongue to it too and they both groaned, “I wouldn’t have.” 

“I want this.” Frederick blurted out and closed his eyes briefly, certain his cheeks had turned a fine shade of red. Will’s mouth was gone and he didn’t want to open his eyes, but he did when he felt the other man’s thumb stroke against his cheek bone before it moved down to trace over his scar. There was something very intimate about the way Will touched him, something almost reverent in the way he regarded his scarred cheek. 

“Not tonight.” Will laughed breathlessly and kissed Frederick chastely before he moved his hands to cover where Frederick’s rested on his chest. “We’re both exhausted.” 

Frederick felt his heart sink a bit and averted his gaze, only to jump slightly when Will nipped gently at the shell of his ear. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, Frederick, except that we need sleep and then we need to talk.” Will’s voice was gentle and he pressed another kiss Frederick’s pulse as if to make his point.

Then Will stepped away from him and whistled for Winston who ran up the stairs and through the door when it was opened. Will motioned for Frederick to step inside, so he did, and grimaced when his cold feet touched the warm floor. Next thing he knew, Will was behind him and there was a hand at the small of his back and he was being led toward the bed in the living room. He almost protested when Will pushed him gently into the blankets, but the next thing he knew the other man was in bed beside him and he was very tired again. He squirmed out of his sweatshirt, tossed it to the floor so he was just in his t-shirt and pajama pants, and settled into the blankets.

Since the kiss had gone well, Frederick decided to push his luck even further as he shifted over to press his back along Will’s side, since his companion was sprawled out on his back. He deemed it a success when he felt Will roll over and he ducked his head a bit shyly when the other man’s arm draped over his hip. 

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frederick.” Will whispered against his ear, his breath warm and almost teasing as the pair situated themselves on the bed. Frederick would be lying if he claimed he didn’t like the way his hips fit back perfect against Will’s, or the fact Will’s fingertips had crept under the waistband of his flannel pjs to stroke gently against his pelvic bone. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Frederick mumbled because he was already feeling sleepy as his body defrosted after being outside. 

“Cuddling?” Will teased but then nuzzled his face into the curve of Frederick’s neck which was decidedly a pleasing feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any of this, let alone someone eager to nuzzle, touch, and hold him. It was refreshing. 

“Shut up Will.” Frederick grumbled even as his chest vibrated with a soft laugh. His body felt heavy already and the world slowly faded out of focus. Will said something but he missed it entirely as he settled into a deep sleep. 

For the first time since he’d woken up covered in blood in his own real life nightmare, Frederick woke up feeling somewhat refreshed. Obviously one night of sleep wasn’t going to make up for months worth of terrible sleep, but it was progress and he didn’t wake up wanting to scream at something. Yet as he welcomed consciousness back to himself he began to remember the events of the previous night. He shifted a little and tested the waters and blushed when he realized Will was still a very real, very warm presence behind him. 

The man’s arm tightened around his waist and Frederick didn’t mind as he pressed closer and closed his eyes again. He tried to memorize how Will felt. He could feel the rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his back. Frederick could smell him too and was surrounded by the woody, earthy, warm scent that was completely unique to Will. There were still warm fingertips resting against his pelvic bone though they had stilled as a result of sleep. After he was certain he could recall the moment in later fantasies, he carefully rolled over and found Will awake and watching him. 

He swallowed hard but didn’t have much time to think about any of it because Will leaned in and pressed their lips together again. Then, Frederick was pressed back into the mattress with Will above him and he whimpered softly into the kiss. His arms move up around Will’s neck as he held him close, gasping into his mouth as their hips slotted together. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he was opening them again once the kiss was broken. Will stared down at him, eyes warm and still a bit sleepy. Frederick moved his hand through his curls and then traced his fingers down the side of Will’s face shyly. There was a flash of something he couldn’t quite distinguish in the other man’s eyes before Will rolled their hips together again. 

Frederick hissed and arched his back as he pressed his head into the pillow. 

“Jesus Christ, Will,” he groaned as his hands slipped down to Will’s shoulders in order to curl in the fabric of his shirt. 

“When was the last time someone got you off, Frederick?” Will asked, his voice soft and genuinely curious as he rolled their hips together yet again. 

“I don’t know.” It was the only honest answer Frederick had because he couldn’t think at that moment, not when Will continued to grind against him. He felt the other man’s arousal through the thin fabric of their pajamas and his own was heavy between his legs. Will leaned down and kissed his temple, then his cheek, then his scar which drew out a shudder. 

“Been a while, then.” Will replied and in that moment Frederick couldn’t even care about how cheeky the other man was. 

“Will Graham I swear to god I will kill you if you do-” he stopped talking because Will had pulled him out of his pants and had both their cocks in his hand. All Frederick could do was moan as his eyes screwed shut and he pushed his erection into the other man’s hand. 

Will, the damn bastard, just chuckled as he stroked them both together. Though after a few strokes, Frederick was pleased to hear the other man moaning softly, too. He reached down and let his hand join Will’s, adding to the pressure as they both bucked their hips into the movement. 

“Oh, fuck,” Frederick groaned because he knew he was close and was almost embarrassed by it, but Will was right, it had been a while. With a soft gasp, followed by a low groan, he came all over their hands and his shirt and shuddered. He opened his eyes just in time to watch Will lose it, the other man tensing up as he came. Then Will kissed him again and they both moaned into each other’s mouths as they came down from their orgasms. 

His gaze followed Will as the other man flopped onto the bed beside him, sprawled out and panting. Then he looked to the other side and saw a couple pairs of concerned dog eyes. His nose wrinkled and Will must have seen it because the next thing he knew the other man was laughing and it was such a wonderful noise that Frederick couldn’t help but laugh a little, too. He rolled over, ignoring the mess on his shirt, and kissed Will’s shoulder through his shirt affectionately before he laid his arm out across his stomach and settled against the man. 

“I thought we were going to talk about it.” Frederick mumbled into Will’s skin as he tugged down the collar of his shirt and pressed kiss to his collar bone. 

“I figured this was a more effective way to communicate.” Will answered, the fingers of his clean hand carding through Frederick’s hair affectionately. 

“You didn’t seem to think it would have worked last night,” he was quick to point out as he kissed the underside of Will’s chin. 

“True. Are you unhappy with it?” Will asked and Frederick was quick to shake his head no before he pressed a kiss to his jaw to emphasize the point. 

They lay together then, Frederick’s head pillowed against Will’s shoulder and his arm slung across his waist, trying to catch their breath. When Frederick’s breathing finally evened out he nuzzled lazily at Will’s shoulder and tried to remember the last time he’d had this with anyone. 

He couldn’t think of one. 

Then he sat up and put his hands on either side of Will’s shoulders. Frederick peered down at the other man with curious eyes and enjoyed the slightly confused look he received in return. 

“Go out on a date with me, Will.” Frederick insisted, ignoring the nervous feeling he got when he saw an amused look overtake Will’s face. “Let me take you out to dinner.” 

“Okay.” Will answered and Frederick searched his gaze for anything to show that he was being messed with. When his search came up with nothing he relaxed a little and dipped his head down to catch Will’s lips in a soft kiss. One of Will’s hands lifted to rest against his cheek as he returned the kiss and Frederick smiled into it. 

“Where do you want to go?” Frederick asked, and then thought better of it, “no, let me figure it out. Let me plan it. Tomorrow night? Are you free tomorrow night?” He pulled back so he could look Will in the eye. 

“Tomorrow is perfect, Frederick,” Will replied with a laugh, “and you can plan it.” With a smile, Will put one of his legs around Frederick’s and flipped him over onto his back again as he leaned in to steal another kiss. 

They spent the morning together, kissing and talking quietly, until the phone rang and Will was forced to answer Jack’s call. Even after Will left and Frederick remained in bed surrounded by the dogs, he felt happy.


	5. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick takes Will on a date and it ends very well for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the end of the fic! 30 pages and 16k+ words later, my little Will/Frederick back story is complete. Of course I've got a ton of other ficlets based on this one floating around my mind, but at least I have a foundation for my little alternate universe now. Thanks for reading <3 Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Frederick could easily remember the last date he’d been on. It had been about four or five years ago. He’d met a woman a great deal younger than him at a local conference and she seemed interested. After running into each other at a third workshop, therefore demonstrating they clearly had the same interests in the realm of psychology, they swapped numbers and he called her to set up a date. He went with something simple for the first date: a light dinner and a walk out to see a fireworks show at a local art festival that was happening the same weekend.

Everything had gone well until he took her home and she tried to get him to go inside with her. While he was a warm blooded human being and enjoyed sex, he was definitely not the type to jump into it after a first date with a perfect stranger. He never had been. So he was confused when she seemed so upset that he wouldn’t go in with her. He tried to explain and couldn’t understand why she was so adamant he go inside. She left, angry, and when he called her the next day to make sure she was alright her husband had picked up the phone, accused him of stalking his wife, and then hung up.

Whatever had happened, Frederick decided he wanted no part in it and never really felt the need to go out on another date. He had his job, his empty home, papers to write, and every excuse under the sun to refuse to open up to other people. The closest he’d ever gotten was to Alana Bloom but with her he realized early on that he would much rather have her as a friend and colleague than a girlfriend. Then there was Hannibal who he’d played at flirting with once upon a time, but the thought now made him feel sick.

He once told Alana that she was catnip for serial killers but maybe he was the one who really attracted the crazies.

Will had been amused by his date prep. Or more, he was amused by the fact Frederick was being so secretive about it all. It was difficult to plan a date when the person was in the house with him, so he did his best to stay up in the guest room to do his scheming. He didn’t let Will look over his shoulder when he was googling around for a place to go after dinner. Of course Will teased him about it, but eventually his secrecy put the other man on edge and he was left alone to his planning.

A small part of him hated the fact Will seemed frustrated by the surprise, but he really hoped he’d like it. He wanted to do things right for once and a date seemed like the right way to go.

“Do I at least get to know what I should wear?” Will asked from the kitchen as he was cleaning up after making lunch.

“Whatever you want, Will.” Frederick replied absentmindedly as he played tug-o-war with Buster, an old worn out rope toy between them.

“You say that now,” Will began but didn’t finish the sentence and Frederick let him be. He was pretty sure anything Will decided to wear would be perfect. Plus if everything went well, hopefully Will would be promptly removing his clothes after the date was over anyway.

His cheeks turned red at the thought, he could feel the warmth of the blush, and he glanced shyly toward the entryway to the kitchen where Will was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Will caught the blush and gave a slightly wicked smile that had Frederick looking away immediately.

“Thinking about something in particular?” Will asked, amusement evident in his tone.

“Just about how your ass would look in jeans, _Will_.” Frederick replied and enjoyed the surprised look on Will’s face. He conceded the tug-o-war match and Buster took the rope toy over to the corner and chewed on it.

“Frederick, buy me dinner first.” Will retorted playfully as he walked over to the door and whistled for his pack. Frederick watched fondly as he opened the door and ushered the dogs out into the yard for their afternoon romp. It was strange to him that they’d managed to fall into a routine in so little time, but he had to admit he liked it. Some moments he wondered when he would screw it up and finally push Will’s patience to its brink, but most of the time he pushed those thoughts away in favor of thinking back to the previous morning.

He shuddered at the memory and Will caught him and gave him a knowing look before he followed the dogs out the door. It would be a miracle if they made it through the date, Frederick decided at that point, and laughed.

Once Will knew to be ready at five-thirty, Frederick made his way upstairs to start getting ready. He started with a shower, stripping down to nothing and stepping under the hot stream of water. Thoughts about the date swirled through his head and he tried not to think about everything that could go wrong. He went through his routine, washing his hair and then the rest of himself. As he stepped out of the shower he toweled off his hair and moved over to the sink. Wrapping the towel around his waist he glanced at himself in the mirror and stopped.

He could go days without looking in a mirror and on those days he could almost forget that his cheek boasted a nasty bullet wound scar. But eventually he had to look into the mirror and he still wasn’t used to the sight. He’d never considered himself to be an overly attractive man, but he had been handsome. There was a certain slant to his jaw and pleasant symmetry to his features he knew was at least average if not a little above. Now, though, he had a mass of scar tissue where a smooth cheek used to be. He wondered idly if he’d be able to get most of it covered if he grew back his beard. It wasn’t a big scar, but it was still a mass of discolored, rough skin, and he started to wonder if he was an embarrassment.

What would people think if they saw a man like Will Graham with someone like him? Will was younger, definitely more attractive, with his curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. He still had a youthful, almost boyish look to him that definitely overshadowed Frederick’s own scarred face. His stomach flip-flopped as he wondered what on earth Will could have been thinking, agreeing to a date with him. He curled his hand into a fist and considered punching the mirror for a moment but talked himself back from it, breathing in slowly and then out as he tried to ground himself.

There was the sound of nails against the door and he opened it to find Winston there. The dog immediately whined at him and padded into the bathroom where he sat at Frederick’s feet and watched him with soulful brown eyes.

“How do you always know?” He asked the dog and Winston’s head merely cocked to the side curiously.

Frederick carefully got down onto his knees and put his arm around the dog’s neck. He buried his face in the thick fur at Winston’s scruff and ran his fingers along his back. As he swallowed hard and choked back all of the unpleasant feelings threatening to overwhelmed him, he heard Winston whine again and felt a warm tongue flick out against his ear and then move along the side of his face.

“Winston, Winston stop…” but the dog kept licking and soon Frederick was laughing because it felt so strange. He pushed Winston away but that seemed to encourage the dog all the more and soon he was on his back, towel still around his hips, as his face was attacked with doggy slobber. Finally, Winston relented and backed away with a wagging tail and Frederick just shook his head at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“Okay, you made it better. Now get out of here.” He sat up and shoo’ed Winston away before he pulled himself up in front of the sink and used his wash cloth to wipe his newly soiled face. Damn dog always knew when people were upset. One day he’d have to suggest Winston as a potential therapy dog or something. With a renewed confidence he continued his date prep, only glancing in the mirror whenever necessary as he tried not to give the scar more attention than it deserved.

It was just after five when he felt like he was ready. He stared at himself in the full length mirror in his bedroom and fussed with his hair for just a moment more before he deemed himself fit to go out on a date. He’d chosen to wear a blue shirt with a white checkered pattern and left the top two buttons undone. The shirt was tucked into a pair of dark wash jeans and over it all he wore a black blazer. All in all, his outfit seemed to distract a little bit from his scar so he deemed it good.

As he walked down the stairs, however, he began to feel nervous. It had been a long time since he’d been on a date, let alone a date with a man, and he realized he really wanted to impress Will. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around until he found Will brushing dog hair off of his sweater. Frederick’s eyes roamed over Will as the younger man turned to him, and smiled a bit to himself. His companion was dressed in a lovely grey sweater with the collar of a red plaid button up sticking out the top. He’d definitely tried to tame his curls. To top it all off, he was wearing a very flattering pair of jeans that drew Frederick’s attention for a long moment before he finally looked up.

“You look, ah, handsome, Will.” Frederick murmured and huffed a bit when Will approached and leaned in to brush their lips together gently.

“You don’t look half bad yourself.” He replied and kissed the corner of Frederick’s mouth before he took a step back and smiled.

Frederick hadn’t taken them far for dinner. He drove into a more populated part of town and treated Will to dinner at a relatively casual steakhouse that was noted for having a large variety of salads. Will, of course, ordered a steak and apologized teasingly about it. It didn’t bother Frederick, though, not really. While there were days he missed the ability to eat meat, a lot of the time he found he felt better since he’d switched to a primarily vegetarian diet. Plus, the salad he ordered had a hefty helping of avocado which was enough to raise anyone’s spirits.

They ate comfortably, Will digging into his steak and Frederick eating his salad. It was easy, simple, and the anxiety he’d felt slowly slipped away as they enjoyed each other’s company. Being with Will, especially with the man’s ability to pick up on his moods with ease, was relaxing. Of course he still worried about saying the wrong thing, or doing something that would make him look the fool, but the more time they spent together the less pressure he felt to perform.

Somehow Will understood him on a level no one else ever had and it was a nice feeling.

He paid for dinner, the gentleman that he was, and as he and Will got back into his car the other man asked casually what they were going to do now.

It was a lovely spring evening as they drove home, the light beginning to fade, and Frederick insisted that Will be patient and allow it to be a surprise. They pulled into Will’s driveway and Frederick noted the slightly confused look on the man’s face.

“This isn’t the surprise, Will,” Frederick was quick to interject as he shut off the car, “wait here, please?” Then he leaned over, pecked Will on the cheek, and climbed out of the car. He made his way into the house and up into his room where he’d stashed extra blankets and two pillows. With them gathered into his arms he made his way out the back door into the field and sauntered into the middle of it. He huffed a bit, the uneven ground not making it easy on his compromised balance, but he managed to get out away from the house.

Frederick laid out the larger of the two blankets and then dumped the extra one at one end. He put the pillows down and made his way back inside for the rest of his supplies. With a small ice chest and plastic bag in one hand and two battery powered lanterns in the other, he made his way back out to the blanket. The lanterns were placed on two corners of the blanket while the cooler was set on the ground beside it. With everything set, he made his way back to the car and tapped on Will’s window.

The younger man got out and gave him a curious look. Frederick just shrugged and reached out to take Will’s hand, hesitating a moment before he laced their fingers together and began leading him away. He was breathing a bit raggedly and Will tugged him to a stop and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Will murmured against his forehead and they started out into the field again, slower than before. Frederick silently appreciated it, even if it made him feel a bit like a cripple all over again.

When they arrived at the blanket, Frederick looked at his partner and was extremely pleased at the impressed look on the other man’s face.

“A picnic?” Will asked and met Frederick’s gaze.

“Dessert. Sit.” He motioned for Will to sit and then followed suit, kicking off his shoes in the process. Will noticed and removed his own and they sat together on the blanket. Frederick leaned over and pulled the ice chest onto the blanket. Out of it he produced two chilled glass bowls which he presented to Will. Next came a pint of rocky road ice cream for Will, and soy based orange cream ice cream for himself. It was a bit of a messy process, and they both laughed as ice cream got on their hands and as some spattered on their clothes, but by the end of it they both had a bowl full of ice cream topped with a number of items that had been inside of the plastic bag.

Frederick made Will hold onto his while he put the items away. Once clean up was complete, he accepted his ice cream and sat crisscross beside Will on the blanket, one of the pillows resting against his lower back. They ate their ice cream in silence for a little while as they watched the sun fade.

Once their ice cream was almost completely eaten, Frederick felt Will’s gaze and turned to meet it, watching the other man curiously. There was an unreadable expression in Will’s eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment before the younger man put his bowl aside and leaned in to kiss him. Frederick could taste the chocolate ice cream on Will’s lips and groaned softly. His bowl was removed from his hand and the next thing he knew, he was shoved down onto his back with Will over him, peering down.

“Tonight was great, Frederick.” Will murmured and Frederick moved to rest his hands against the other man’s chest. His fingers curled in the fabric of his sweater as Frederick pulled him down to kiss him again. Will was happy, he was happy, and even though the sun had set the air wasn’t quite cold enough to chase them inside. Especially not now that Will was on top of him, his weight more than welcome because Frederick liked the feeling of being pinned.

The kiss they shared was lazy, all slow strokes of their tongues and soft groans. One of Frederick’s hands moved from Will’s chest to his hair and tangled in the soft curls, holding him in place as they kissed. Finally, he pulled back from the kiss panting and his grip on Will’s hair loosened so that his fingers could tease down the side of the other man’s face before he rested his hand comfortably on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Will.” Frederick whispered after a moment and averted his gaze, staring at the grass to his right. His thumb rubbed idly where it lay against Will’s shoulder.

“For what?” Will’s mouth was right beside his ear when the question was asked and he felt the other man trace the shell of his ear with his tongue. “You’re the one who paid for dinner and planned this whole thing and then fed me ice cream. I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you.”

“For sharing your house with me. For sharing your life and your dogs and now for sharing…this with me.” He glanced hesitantly back at Will who simply watched him for a moment.

“You aren’t as bad as you think you are, Frederick.” Will pointed out as he leaned in to press a warm, open mouthed kiss to his jaw. When Frederick made a soft noise of protest, Will bit down on the spot he’d just kissed and sucked at the skin.

“Will.” Frederick groaned as he felt the other man mark his jaw, his face hot with embarrassment even as he felt heat shooting straight down to his groin. Will’s mouth moved from his jaw to his neck where he bit down again gently and sucked, leaving another mark that had Frederick squirming.

Then suddenly Will’s comfortable weight was gone and he was left alone on the blanket. That was, until Will grabbed him and hauled him up to his feet.

“Will?” It was a question this time and Frederick shot the other man a questioning look.

“Bed, Frederick. Now.” Will shoved him gently and Frederick got the point. His cheeks still hot, he made his way toward the house and tried to not be bothered by the fact there would probably be ants on the blanket by morning, and they weren’t wearing shoes. For the moment he had more important things to think about, such as his growing hard-on and the fact Will seemed very determined in that moment to get him up into bed. When they stepped inside Frederick hesitated until Will guided him toward the stairs and they made their way up to the guest room.

A couple of the dogs tried to follow, but Will shoo’ed them away and shut the door once they were in the bedroom. Frederick stood there awkwardly before he let his blazer slide to the ground and crumple there in an unceremonious heap. Then he looked at the younger man who was regarding him thoughtfully as he approached. Will ran his hands down the front of Frederick’s chest, down to the hem of his shirt which was still tucked in his pants. The other man yanked it out from his belt and began unbuttoning it from the bottom up.

As the two sides were drawn apart, Frederick stopped him, grabbed his wrists and swallowed hard as he stared down at the ground. It was the first time someone other than his doctors would see his scar and he was suddenly very self conscious. It was bad enough he had one the entire world could see, but the clean surgical scar that ran along his belly was yet another indicator of a past shame he wished would stay in the past.

“Frederick, look at me.” Will instructed, his voice gentle even though it held a certain note to it that called for compliance. Slowly he raised his gaze from the floor to Will’s shoulder and then finally to the other man’s eyes. “It is just a scar.”

He knew Will was right. The scar itself was not all that scary. The memories associated with it, though, were and made Frederick consider buttoning his shirt back up and calling off the evening. Instead, he decided to take a leap of faith and released Will’s hands, averting his gaze once again.

“Lie down and trust me, okay?” Will murmured as he brushed his lips gently against Frederick’s cheek before giving him a gentle push to the bed. Frederick removed his belt and yanked off his socks before he sprawled out on the bed, lying on his back with his head cushioned in the pillows. Will followed suit, removing his sweater, belt, and socks before he crawled on top of Frederick and gently pushed his shirt open again.

“Breathe.” Will whispered as his mouth kissed a warm trail down Frederick’s neck, pausing only to tease with teeth and tongue at the mark he’d left earlier. Then Will’s mouth dipped lower, exploring his collarbone and chest languidly, gently, with an open mouth and a mix of lips, tongue, and teeth. When the other man’s mouth closed over one his nipples, Frederick whimpered and fisted his hand in the sheets. His eyes slid shut as Will’s tongue lapped at the sensitive nub and then moved to the other to give it the same treatment. Frederick reminded himself to breathe and inhaled deeply.

Then Will’s mouth continued its journey south, tongue teasing here and there, and as he got closer to the scar, Frederick began to tense again. He felt Will nuzzle at his naval and pause, appreciating the time it gave him to breathe and force the muscles in his back to relax. Then Will’s mouth was at the edge of his scar, his tongue and lips warmly teasing at the rough skin. It made him feel vulnerable and he squirmed, but every touch of Will’s lips or tongue now went straight to Frederick’s groin.

“Will,” he keened softly, fingers curled in the blankets on the bed as the other man peppered his scar with affection. Will traced the length of it down to where his skin disappeared beneath his jeans. He felt him smile against his skin and made a soft noise of surprise when he felt Will pop open the button on his jeans and yank down the fly. In a soft whisper of fabric, his jeans were tossed to the floor and Will’s mouth returned to his scar before it shifted lower and the younger man began mouthing him through his boxers.

Frederick groaned low in his throat as he felt the heat from Will’s tongue through the thin fabric of his underwear. It was just enough pressure to arouse him, but definitely not enough to constitute as anything but teasing. He squirmed and sat up a bit to tug at the shoulder of the other man’s shirt, but found himself almost immediately pushed back down onto the bed, his boxers being yanked off without a care.

“Will, shit.” His head hit the pillow as Will’s stupidly talented mouth worked its way down the underside of his length. If he had trouble remembering the last time he’d been on a date, he definitely had trouble remembering the last time anyone had done _this_ to him. Will’s mouth worked back up along the side of him before he took the head of Frederick’s cock into his mouth and ran his tongue over it.

Frederick bucked up into the heat of Will’s mouth and growled with frustration when his hips were shoved back down against the bed as the other man silently insisted on control. Instead of pushing against the hand holding him against the bed, he simply fisted the sheets and turned his head to press his cheek against the pillow. Slowly Will took more of him into his mouth until he was bobbing up and down, his tongue swirling around in a way that made Frederick wonder where the hell a man like Will Graham got any practice doing this kind of thing.

He forgot what he was thinking about when Will let the length of him slide deep into his throat.

The next thing he knew, Will’s hand was wrapped around his stiff dick and the man was looking up at him with a look that spoke of both his amusement and arousal. Then Will was gone all together and Frederick watched as he slid off the bed, shucked his shirt, and then looked around.

“Drawer,” Frederick nodded to the nightstand as he resisted the urge to reach down and stroke himself. Something about the way Will had looked at him made him think the other man wouldn’t appreciate it.

“You came prepared.” Will observed as he tore a condom off of the pack and secured a bottle of lube.

“I was certainly hopeful as I was planning out date night.” Frederick replied easily, though he fell silent as Will dropped the condom and the lube on the bed and began undoing the fly of his jeans.

“Have you ever been fucked before?” Will asked and Frederick almost missed what he said because the other man timed the question just as he was shoving his jeans and boxer shorts down. He stared at a very naked Will standing in front of him and drank in the sight of him for a long moment.

“No.” He breathed as his eyes roamed over Will’s body, from his broad shoulders down to his waist and then finally to his erection. Every bit of him was beautiful and Frederick felt so subpar and ridiculous in comparison. As if he knew what he was thinking, Will crawled back onto the bed and settled himself over Frederick once again, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

“Well, you’re in for an experience then.” Will chuckled after he broke the kiss and peered down into Frederick’s eyes, searching them carefully. For what, Frederick wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps he was looking for hesitation, or he was giving Frederick an out, but he refused to take it. He wanted Will, he wanted all of Will, and for once in his life he was going to get what he wanted.

“Roll over onto your stomach.” Will sat back and Frederick did as he was told, shifting to lie on his stomach. With a bit of shifting around, soon he was positioned up on his knees with a pillow shoved under his hips. He hugged one of the other pillows to support his chest and buried his face in it when he felt Will’s chest rest warmly against his back. “Frederick Chilton, you’re beautiful.” Will whispered into his ear before he slid down Frederick’s back and pressed warm kisses to his spine down the way.

Frederick was expecting the discomfort of a finger when he felt Will spread him, but instead he received the insanely strange sensation of a tongue pressing against him. His hips bucked forward into the pillow and he gasped in surprise as Will lapped at his hole firmly.

“Jesus Christ,” Frederick groaned and squirmed in order to rut against the pillow until he felt one of Will’s hands still him. It was torture, he decided. Will was going to torture him to death with his ridiculously talented tongue.

After what seemed like an eternity, Will’s tongue finally relented and he shivered as the other man ran his rough fingertips soothingly down his spine. He heard the pop of a bottle cap and knew what came next. Frederick tensed in anticipation as a well lubed finger traced the tight ring of muscle and pressed just slightly in.

“It is easier if you relax.” Will pointed out gently, his other hand stroking down along the back of Frederick’s thigh before up and over his lower back.

“Yes, thanks for the reminder. Let me know sometime when someone isn’t about to push a finger into my ass.” Frederick bit out and then whimpered when Will once against trailed warm kisses along his spine before picking a spot just above his ass to worry into a mark. He reminded himself to breath and on the exhale did the best he could to relax. Will’s finger slid into him up to his second knuckle and it felt strange, but not completely foreign.

“That’s right, relax and open up for me.” Will murmured and the words made Frederick’s hips buck a little as the finger was pulled almost completely out and then pushed back in. “Good, Frederick. Beautiful.”

Will fucked him slowly with the finger, allowing him to adjust to the point he was actually pushing back into it. It was finally beginning to feel comfortable, warm, and almost unbearable. Then the finger was removed, more lube applied, and two fingers pressed into him and he rocked back into them eagerly. Yes, they stretched him a bit more than he was accustomed to, but the initial awkwardness had passed and when Will curved his fingers just right Frederick cried out loudly. He buried his face back into the pillow, back arched down and hips pressed desperately into the pillow beneath them.

He stayed like that for a while as Will worked the two fingers into him over and over again until he was rocking between them and the pillow. His cock was hard and leaking, knuckles turning white from where they were digging into the pillow.

“Will, _please_ ,” he begged and just like that the fingers were gone and he was being pushed onto his back. Will settled between his legs and sat back on his haunches as he pulled the condom over his own leaking prick and then spread a generous amount of lube over himself. Frederick watched lustfully and allowed Will to move him so that his legs were wrapped around the other man’s waist. He shuddered as Will teased him again with his fingers, before he lined himself up and pressed the head of his cock against Frederick’s ass.

He breathed in, then out, and closed his eyes as Will slowly pushed inside of him. It felt better than he had anticipated, and when Will pulled out and thrust back in half way he moaned and pushed his hips into it.

“Look at me,” Will commanded gently as he planted a hand on either side of Frederick’s head and leaned in to kiss him. Frederick obeyed, eyes open as they kissed. With another shift of hips, Will thrust into him again and drew a sharp gasp from Frederick, who let his head fall back against the bed. His hands scrambled for something to hold onto. One of them fisted the sheets while the other moved to rest against the side of Will’s neck to draw him in for another kiss.

They found their rhythm finally; Will thrust in at a moderate pace as Frederick rolled his hips in response. Their bodies worked together and soon Frederick couldn’t keep up with the kisses because all he could do was pant and moan and beg Will for more. Will was gracious and gave it to him, picking up the pace as he slid into him hard and deep and then balanced on one hand so he could reach down with the other and begin jerking Frederick off.

He gasped and shouted and tightened his legs to try and draw Will in deeper. Then he accidentally angled his hips in what turned out to be the perfect way because Will hit his prostate and he saw white.

“Will,” he groaned as the other man began pounding into him, hitting the spot over and over again as he overwhelmed his senses. With a few more thrusts and a tight fisted jerk of Will’s fist, Frederick came with a shudder and another shout. His body was taunt as Will continued to fuck him through his orgasm and he came all over his chest, his stomach, and Will’s hand. As he came down from his high he watched through hooded lids as Will pulled out of him, yanked the condom off, and stroked himself until he came on Frederick’s stomach.

The fact Will moaned his name as he came was just icing on the cake.

Frederick panted and felt as if he were going to become one with the mattress as his muscles relaxed. He gazed down for a moment at the mess on his stomach and chest and shuddered as Will ran his fingers through it and smeared it around his skin. When the other man leaned down and lapped at the cum spattered across his scar, Frederick was pretty sure he was going to somehow orgasm all over again.

“Will, I swear to god if you don’t stop I’m going to die right here, right now,” he groaned as he pressed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes. He heard Will laugh and then tasted himself on the other man’s lips when they kissed. Really, he could taste both of them, and he shivered at the thought as he indulged in a lazy press of tongues.

Will finally collapsed beside him and the pair just lied there, staring up at the ceiling as they basked in the afterglow. Frederick wasn’t sure he could move even if he wanted to, though the feeling of cum cooling on his stomach was becoming unpleasant and he made a bit of a face.

“If you think you can make it, we can go shower.” Will pointed out as he rolled gingerly onto his side and peered at Frederick. Frederick merely tilted his head and stared into the other man’s blue eyes for a moment before he nodded his head.

“Good idea,” he said, but as he shifted to his feet he groaned and realized he was going to be sore the next day. It had been years since he’d used certain muscles and his body was gleefully reminding him of it. In a few moments Will was by his side, though the other man seemed to be somewhat stiff too and Frederick laughed.

They somehow made it to the bathroom and Frederick sat on the closed lid of the toilet while Will let the water heat up. He was tired, but with the fatigue came a deep sense of relaxation he wasn’t really used to. Will pulled him up and into the shower and the pair of them stood together under the warm stream of water, Frederick with his back to Will’s chest as his now-lover ran a wash cloth over the mess on his chest and stomach. They cleaned each other, the sweat and grime that came with a romp between the sheets washing away down the drain as they both indulged in touch.

To be fair, Frederick was doing most of the touching since he hadn’t really gotten a chance to in bed. He turned so that he and Will were facing one another and allowed his fingers to trace over Will’s chest, following streams of water. Then he leaned in and pressed a series of kisses along the younger man’s collarbone, lapping at the water on his skin and enjoying the way it drew a soft groan out of Will. Frederick bit down and sucked on the skin, grinning into it as he felt Will’s fingers dig into his shoulder.

“Frederick,” Will growled playfully, his chest rumbling as Frederick finished up the hickey and leaned back to admire his handy work.

“You covered me in marks, I think I deserved at least one.” Frederick pointed out.

“You can leave as many marks on me as you want, Frederick,” Will leaned in to whisper hotly in his ear, “I’m yours now.”

The thought made Frederick a bit light headed but he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the idea of Will being his, and he being Will’s. There was something wonderfully new in the strange sense of belonging he felt in the presence of the other man. It was different than anything he’d really had before. He pressed his cheek against Will’s shoulder and closed his eyes, smiling when Will’s arms wrapped around his waist to hold him close.

“Let’s go to bed.” Will insisted as he reached around Frederick to shut off the water and got them both towels. They made their way back to the bedroom once they were reasonably dry and fell into bed. Will pulled the blankets up around them and Frederick scooted over until he was nestled against the other man’s side, his head resting against his shoulder, arm draped lazily over his midsection.

There were a lot of things that ran through Frederick’s head in that moment as he felt sleep tugging at him. He wanted to say something ridiculous, or make some sort of grand gesture that would reflect the divine happiness he felt in that moment. The words ‘I love you’ came to mind but he knew they didn’t fit, not quite, so he allowed the thought of them to float away like a leaf caught on an autumn breeze. He closed his eyes and listened to Will’s heartbeat and focused on the sound of the other man’s breathing and felt lulled.

“I’m glad I’m yours, Will,” he finally murmured as he pressed a kiss to warm skin and felt Will’s hand stroke along his arm affectionately.

“Me too, Frederick.” Will murmured in reply and the two fell asleep wrapped up in each other, the demons of their past momentarily forgotten.


End file.
